PS 3505 

0155 
N3 
1915 
Copy 1 







By i/ea.rv 
\ C&rter 

Cochrarv 




"SLlSi 



Nancy's Mother 



By 



JEAN CARTER COCHRAN 



Author ot 
"The Rainbo-vr in the Rain." 
" Her Carcassonne" and 
" The Friendly Stars" 



Copyrighted 1915 
By Jean Carter Cochran 



k 






Recorder Press 
Plainfieia, N. J. 



'GU40(;289 



JUN 12 1915 



To Nancy's Father 

"The Little Cherubs whispered, 

'What strange new soul is this 
Who Cometh with a robe besmirched 

Unto the place of Bliss?' 
Then spake the Eldest Angel, 

'The robe he wears is fair — 
The groping fingers of the poor 

Have held and blessed him there.' 

"The Little Cherubs whispered, 

'Who comes to be our guest 
With dust upon his garment's hem 

And stains upon his breast?' 
Then spake the Eldest Angel, 

'Most lovely is the stain — 
The tears of those he comforted 

Who may not weep again.' 

* * * * 

" 'The dust upon his garment's hem, 

My lips shall bow to it; 
The stains upon the breast of him 

Are gems quite exquisite. 
O little foolish Cherubs, 

What truth is this ye miss? 
There comes no saint to Paradise 

Who does not come like this.' " 

— Quoted. 



jur 



CHAPTER I 




Jimmie, Tke Soldier! 

ILLY is practicing scales; he goes 
dum, dum, dum, until I am 
most crazy — I wish he wasn't 
such a conscienceful person, — I 
think that's what you call it; I want him to 
play with me and I suppose he will go on 
this way for a whole half hour. 

As for Jimmy, he is no good at all since 
his head was hurt, and he had a patch put 
on it; he keeps pretending he's a soldier all 
day long, just because they said he was so 
brave. He's in the compound now, march- 
ing up and down, singing, 

"When I grow up I'm going to be 
A captain of the Infantry." 

When I beg to join in, he says, "Girls can't 
be soldiers; they can't even vote." I'd like 
to know if little boys can, either, — why do 
boys put on such airs?" 

Dear little Gwen is fast asleep and my 
mother Is going to a feast at the Tai Tai's 
(official's wife). She said, "It is no place 
for little girls," when I begged to go. It 
seems too bad that all the really nice things 



like candy and Chinese Feasts are bad for 
children, — it's not fair. 

So you see there's not much for me to 
amuse myself with, and I just think I'll tell 
about the time Jimmy hurt his head. Ev- 
erybody, — that is, my grandmothers, grand- 
father, uncles, aunts and cousins, — seemed 
to like it so much when I told them about be- 
ing lost in the mountains. As usual, we had 
to come to Kuling, among the mountains of 
China, to spend our summer vacation. We 
live in Hwai Yuan in the winter, and that is 
where we do our missionary work — at least 
my father and mother do, — and we children 
help by being children. I must explain to 
you again, for perhaps you have forgotten 
there are four of us, Billy, Jimmy, Gwen- 
nie and Nancy, only I really come first be- 
cause I am Nancy and I am the oldest. Now 
I must begin my story without any more ex- 
plaining. 

It was going to be a red-letter day in our 
lives. I don't know exactly what that means, 
but I'll put it down and ask my mother when 
she comes home if that's right. Our Auntie 
Jeanie was coming all the way from America 
to teach us children and she was to reach 
Kiu Kiang that day, — Kiu Kiang is the place 
you get off the river steamer to come up the 
mountain. My mother was wild with joy 
at the mere idea of some one of her own 
dear family coming so many, many miles, 
and so were we all. She was going down to 
meet Auntie Jeanie, 'cause we had lots of 

8 



friends living all around who could keep an 
eye on us children. 

Well, instead of the day breaking fair and 
bright as it always does in make-believe 
stories, the rain came down "in sheets and 
pillow cases," as funny Atintie Polly once 
said. When it rains in the mountains of 
China it always means what it says; the lit- 
tle dried-up brooks become rivers of angry 
waters quick as a wink, and the water pours 
off the roof so one can hardly hear oneself 
think. 

It takes more than rain to disturb my 
mother though; she just took one glance 
out of the window, laughed and made a 
funny remark and started to work. 

We were up long before daylight so she 
could get Gwennie's milk ready, see that 
there was a good dinner on hand for Auntie 
Jeanie, and get chair coolies. 

It was no joke finding four chair coolies 
who wanted to take that wet trip on such a 
day; the Chinese hate water almost as badly 
as chickens do. When Mother thought she 
had four, two would suddenly disappear and 
she would have to begin again. You might 
have thought it was the whole twelve tribes 
of Israel getting ready to cross the Red Sea 
by the noise they made, instead of one dear, 
sweet little Mother, with curly brown hair, 
almost smothered in raincoats and veils, 
starting for a lonely trip down the mountain. 
Finally she got off while we children wildly 
waved until she was whisked around the cor- 



ner; then we settled down to play, and of 
course we fully meant to be as angelic as we 
had promised. 

In about half an hour, Aunt Margaret, 
who had planned to go with mother, col- 
lected four coolies, and again there was 
scolding and scrambling among the coolies 
and away she went. 

We children had a fine time playing some 
of our very nicest games, though inside we 
were so excited we could hardly wait, and 
the hands of the clocic did not seem to move 
an inch. I really think It was the longest 
day of my whole life. 

Late in the afternoon our Jimmy boy, 
who is a very adventurous (doesn't that 
sound grown up!) boy, climbed on the rail- 
ing of the piazza when no one was looking, 
to catch rain drops. 

Now the porch was very high, and his 
foot slipped and he fell and hit his head 
against a stone, and lay quite still and did 
not move or speak. It was simply awful, 
but one of our neighbors ran and picked him 
up and carried him to the house; then they 
sent for a doctor, who came straight off, and 
there was a great deal of running back and 
forth and all the grown people looked very 
sober. In a little while they took him away 
to the hospital, and Billy and I just felt ter- 
ribly, for we did not know how much he 
was hurt — and if he was going to die — and 
our Mother away. You know when Mother's 
away one feels as if one couldn't be sure of 



10 



anything, and as if every place was empty. 
So Billy and I just clung to each other and 
cried; of course little Gwennie was too little 
to realize anything. It seemed as if the 
night got twice as dark as usual, and at every 
noise outside we would start and think they 
were coming; we listened so hard our ears 
seemed to get sharper and we could hear 
quite plainly sounds way up the valley. 

In the meantime my mother had gotten to 
the river without anything worse than a 
dreadful wetting, but she was so happy at 
the thought of seeing Auntie Jeanie she 
never noticed that. She went down on the 
Bund to watch the steamer come in, and way 
off on the deck she recognized Auntie Jeanie 
waving wild signals, and everybody was so 
interested and excited they waved too, 
though of course they did not know Mother 
at all. Mother said she fairly wanted to 
pull the boat in, she was so anxious to get 
hold of her. 

Finally the boat came in, amidst the 
screaming, pushing, jumping and yelling of 
excited Chinese coolies. My Daddy says 
calmness and repose is unknown to Chinese 
coolies unless you really want them to work, 
— then they fall to sleep anywhere. Mother 
and Auntie Jeanie came together in a series 
of hugs and kisses, and a few tears, though 
why they should cry at such a joyful occa- 
sion passes me. Aunt Margaret stood be- 
hind and waited her turn and it all began 
again. Every one talked at once, asking 



II 



questions and answering them without stop- 
ping. My mother told me about it after- 
wards; she tells things so funnily and so 
clearly you just feel as if you had been there; 
somebody said she was "a word artist," and 
I guess they meant she makes things so plain 
it is like a picture. 

It took a long time, as you can imagine 
after all I have told you about China, to get 
started back up the mountains. They had 
to get coolies for all Aunt Jeanie's luggage, 
for everything is carried up on the backs of 
men, — yes, trunks, too, and I can just see 
you open your eyes at that, way off in Amer- 
ica. 

The night began to fall (doesn't that 
sound like a real book?) before they got 
more than half way, but they went right on. 
When they got within half an hour or so of 
home, a coolie stopped my mother's chair 
and asked if she was Er Si Mu. She said 
"yes" and they handed her two telegrams, 
one to my Daddy, who was on business in 
Shanghai, and one to Uncle Sam, who is a 
Doctor and was at home in the Mission Sta- 
tion. The telegram said that Jimmy was 
badly hurt and to come. The coolies had 
been told very clearly and sharply not to 
stop anywhere, and not to show the telegram 
to Er Si Mu; that is how they obeyed. 

My mother knew in a minute that they 
never would have sent for Uncle Sam, who 
was ten-days' journey away, unless some- 
thing dreadful had happened. If you have 



ever met my mother for one minute you 
could see In her deep, soft, brown eyes the 
great love she has for us children. 

I guess it was almost like a knife in her 
heart. She just turned to her coolies stand- 
ing around her with their queer torches and 
she made them run — over sticks and stones 
and gullies they stumbled in the darkness, 
up and down steps. She must have been 
nearly shaken to bits, as one or another 
would slip and nearly fall, but she urged and 
pleaded with them to go faster, in a very 
shaky voice. 

When she reached the house she found it 
dark, for we were at Aunt Margaret's, and 
again she turned and hurried away to the 
hospital. 

Soon Auntie Jeanie came; how different it 
was from what we had planned! We just 
hugged and kissed her hard I can tell you, 
it was next best to having Mother; and to 
know she was with our Jimmy boy made ev- 
erything look brighter and more solid, some- 
how. Auntie Jeanie and we just clung to each 
other until we fell asleep tired out with mis- 
ery and gladness. 

When mother arrived at the hospital, they 
told her Jimmy was coming out of the ether 
nicely, and that he must be kept from all 
exciting things; she flew right to him and 
took the nurse's place, but very quietly and 
calmly. When he slowly opened his eyes 
there was our blessed mother giving him a 
glass of water as if she had never been 

13 



away; that funny boy wanted to know why 
she had her clothes on in the middle of the 
night. 

The first few days were the dangerous 
ones. You see they had taken a piece of 
bone right out of his head, and she staid 
right close beside him for three or four 
days without ever taking off her clothes, for 
fear some sudden noise or jar might startle 
him ; when the danger was all over she look- 
ed down at her feet and saw she still had on 
her rubbers she had put on that happy rainy 
morning to go down the mountain. Now 
that is just like my mother. Do you sup- 
pose all mothers are like that? 



14 



n 



CHAPTER II 




My Mother's Day 

jE are all very busy this morning 
thinking very hard, for we are 
trying to write compositions. 
Do you remember when you 
were little boys and girls In school ; how your 
heart used to sink on the mornings your 
teacher would say in the tone she uses when 
she thinks she is giving you a great treat, 
"Now, children, we will write compositions 
today, and you can choose your own sub- 
jects"? 

Billy Is leaning away over his desk, writ- 
ing away for dear life, — that boy has really 
too many ideas ! I know he's giving a long 
account of how the trolleys run in San 
Francisco, or what kind of food cows eat in 
the winter and how they chew. I wonder 
why boys always love such stupid things? 

It's always dreadfully hard for me be- 
cause I think of so many different subjects 
and they all seem like the little blind paths in 
the mountains that start out so beautifully 
and lead to nowhere. 

Oh! now I have a splendid idea, I just 
guess I'll tell you about one of my mother's 

15 



days, for I think she does more in one day 
than most people do in a week. I am going 
to describe last Saturday for I was with her 
a great deal that day. 

At half-past six the scramble began. It 
seemed like getting up in the middle of the 
night, it was so cold and dark. When there 
arc two grown-up people and four children 
to dress in half an hour it takes some en- 
gineering, as Daddy says. Mother often 
wishes people didn't have so many feet; for 
with five people it means ten stockings and 
ten shoes, and that's just a starter; when 
your rooms are small, things seem to get 
even more thoroughly lost. You know how 
it is a sleeping-car berth, don't you? 
Billy and I both felt so very happy we could 
not help singing a duet, something like an 
oratorio. Daddy called it — I don't know 
what that is — but I sang, "Mr. Duck went 
to walk with Mr. Turkey," very high, and 
then Billie sang, "Mr. Duck went to walk 
with Mr. Turkey," very low, but at the top 
of his lungs and all the while he was pulling 
on his stockings. People don't always like 
our singing the way I wish they would; I 
know once at home in America a cousin came 
to see us, and we children were upstairs 
singing; she turned to my aunt and said, 
"Mary, what is that awful noise?" Aunt 
Polly answered, "Oh, that's nothing, it's 
only Billy and Nancy singing, 'Jesus Loves 
Me,' in Chinese" ; we have been teased about 
it ever since I 

i6 



To go back to our stockings, Auntie Jeanie 
complained the din was dreadful, but 
Mother and the amah went calmly on but- 
toning up dresses, brushing hair, and seeing 
that we cleaned our teeth properly, as 
though it had been "The silence of the 
tomb." I don't know if Auntie Jeanie will 
let that stand, she doesn't seem to like such 
expressions, she says they spoil my style, 
whatever that may mean, — if I make her 
laugh she will leave it. 

Through all the noise my mother was just 
as sweet and not one bit cross, though I 
know she had been awake since five with 
Gwennie, and up with Jimmy in the night be- 
cause he had an earache. 

At a little after seven we were all dressed 
and sitting at breakfast; Mother was pour- 
ing out her coffee — she doesn't take much 
else for breakfast — when the table boy came 
in and said, "There's a poor woman outside 
who wants to speak to Er Si Mu." So 
Mother hurried out ; when she came back in 
about ten minutes, she did not seem to notice 
her coffee was cold, and drank it quickly as 
though her mind was away off. I saw a lit- 
tle tear trickling down her cheek, which she 
brushed quickly away with her hand. She 
told us this poor woman with a baby in her 
arms was nearly frozen and perhaps starv- 
ing: this is famine year for the Chinese, be- 
cause the rain spoiled their harvest. Many 
of the poorer people who are always hungry 
even in good years, are starving now. 

17 



We found afterwards my mother had 
given the woman one of her own padded 
garments. The Chinese women all love my 
mother dearly, I think it's because she says 
in her heart, "What if I was this poor, sad 
woman, and my little Gwennie was this poor 
starved little baby?" So she treats them 
just as she would like to be treated herself. 

When she talks to them you can see the 
love shining out of her face; the tears in 
her eyes tell them she is sorry for their 
troubles, and of course they love her from 
deep down in their hearts. No one in this 
wide world has ever been so kind to them be- 
fore. 

After breakfast we had prayers and we all 
like that 'cause we can sing a hymn very loud 
indeed. Somehow I feel better after singing 
loud. It was Jimmy's turn to choose and 
he wanted, "Baa, Baa, Black Sheep," and 
couldn't understand why we laughed. 

Then came Gwennie's bath, and that's such 
fun. She is too cunning for words, and 
laughs and crows and kicks her little pink 
toes. I truly believe my mother loves that 
bath the best of the whole day for she can 
take Gwennie's dear little soft body in her 
arms and hug and cuddle it to her heart's 
content. She wouldn't believe it, but she 
always reminds me of the picture of Baby 
Jesus and His Mother that hangs over 
them ; she has the same sort of holy look on 
her face. 

i8 



When she was in the midst of dressing 
Gwennie, funny old Loa Pong, the gate- 
keeper, came in, and making his deep bow, he 
handed mother a big red card and said the 
l^ai Tai (official lady) was at the gate. 
Mother gave me Gwennie and hurried into 
her room to put on her best Chinese coat, 
and give "a lick and a promise to her hair." 
The Chinese do not like curly hair, and 
asked Mother once why she didn't use a 
comb. (Auntie Jeanie says "a lick and a 
promise" is not very elegant, but I can leave 
it if I want to.) 

Then Loa Pong, the gate-keeper, in his 
dirty, ragged padded coat and his little 
moth-eaten pig tail, about as thick as my lit- 
tlest finger, with very deep bows, showed the 
Tai Tai in, and mother, with her best Chi- 
nese manners, bowed and smiled and shook 
her own hands telling the Tai Tai she was 
doing her too much honor. 

While I, with Gwennie half dressed in my 
arms, and the bath tub at my feet, couldn't 
help laughing behind her dear little back. 
You see we had to bathe Gwennie In the par- 
lor because that stove makes the warmest 
fire. It all looked funny though, the stately 
bows and polite remarks and lovely coats of 
the ladies, and dirty, mussy Loa Pong with 
such fine manners and such shabby clothes, 
and the bath tub and everything. In America 
we don't expect callers at nine o'clock In 
the morning, but in China one never knows 
when the Tai Tals will come. Mother says 

19 



it's a great comfort to her to remember that 
the ladies don't know that as a usual thing 
foreigners don't take baths in their draw- 
ing-rooms. 

Well, of course the ladies had to be given 
tea and sweet meats and smoke their little 
pipes; they dropped the ashes on the floor 
and made holes in the best rug, too. Mother 
explained to me afterwards that as they 
had no rugs on their own stone or mud floors 
they couldn't realize the harm they did — I 
think they should, though. Then they 
wantecf to see the house because we had just 
moved into a new apartment iri the boys' 
school. They went into all our bedrooms, 
with Mother always very patient and most 
polite following after, and they asked lots of 
foolish questions, and pulled out all the bu- 
reau drawers and wanted to wind the bed- 
room clock. 

We thought they would never go, but at 
last they were satisfied that we had not used 
ground-up Chinese bones for tooth powder, 
and that we had no real skeletons in our 
closet as they had heard, and off they went. 
That is really too quick a way of telling 
how they left, for it took nearly half an hour 
for them to say their last pretty speeches and 
make their last good-by bows; in the end 
they toddled off, each one held up by an 
amah because their feet were so small. 

By the time the sedan chairs had jogged 
round the (iorner, Mother had whisked off 
her good coat, seen that the amah had but- 



ao 



toned Gwennie's dress in the back and not 
down the front, and gone to the store room 
to give out the food and oil for the day. 
The Chinese servants steal things so very 
dreadfully everything has to be locked up 
and then given out eachmorning. Mother has 
to even watch them with her own eyes fill 
the lamps, or they would take the kero- 
sene. She also had to fix Gwennie's milk 
and then help the men who brought the 
wood for the winter weigh it, for fear they 
would not bring enough, or would steal it, or 
soak it in water to make it weigh more. 
Then the women whom she is teaching to 
read began to come, and she sat with them 
for an hour. It is pretty hard work, I guess, 
for they are old and stupid; English is hard 
enough, I think, but it is knitting work com- 
pared to ditch digging to Chinese, Daddy 
says. Mother never gets cross though, and 
she went over and over the same verse of 
the hymn so they could learn it, and she ex- 
plained it to them in easy words, and when 
they got a little bit of an idea what it all 
meant she was so happy. All the time they 
had one or two babies and little children 
with them who cried or wanted something 
just when she tried to make things plain. 
I guess she must get cross inside, but she 
didn't show it to them, and they each one 
told her some hard trouble they were having 
and she comforted them so sweetly. 

After she finished with the women, 
she decided the parlor stove pipe needed 



21 



cleaning, as the fire would not burn, and she 
called the table boy and they went at It to- 
gether, he was too stupid to do it alone. I 
ran in there after my doll and there was 
my mother with soot on her nose, cheeks and 
hands doing most of the work herself, while 
the boy watched her. 

She told me to run and get washed up be- 
cause as a great treat she was going to take 
me over to Li Sao Tze to dinner, and she 
would be ready in a twinkling. She always 
says things in such a funny way even when 
she is busy, it makes one laugh. 

While we were getting ready, there was a 
great smash in the living room, and we rush- 
ed in to find that the boy in his clumsy way 
had smashed the best lamp to smithereens — 
that word is not in the dictionary but Mother 
used it so it must be all right. It was 
mother's wedding present, and, as mother 
says, "It gave an air to the whole station," 
so she reproved the boy, as he deserved. 

At last we were ready, and off we started 
in great glee, for Mother and I do not very 
often get away together, she doesn't think 
too much Chinese food good for me. Li 
Sao Tze is one of the inquirers, that means 
she is asking about Christianity; she is very 
poor and ignorant and often comes to wash 
windows or scrub floors. Mother didn't like 
very well to go, knowing how hard a life she 
had, but the ladies here helped her out a 
lot, and she was so grateful, my mother saw 



It would hurt her pride if we did not accept, 
so she decided we must. 

We walked along the dirty crooked streets 
so different from our blessed clean America ; 
all the savage dogs and horrid black pigs 
seemed to be out for an airing, too, and were 
nosing around most uncomfortably. 

iVs we passed along a woman here and 
there would say how do you do to mother, 
and ask her where she was going, which is 
very polite in China. Soon the crowd began 
to follow us, for they are not very well used 
to seeing us foreigners on that side of town. 
At last we came to Li Sao Tze's little hut. 
I can't very well tell you how poor it was, 
'cause I never saw anything quite like it at 
home. It was built of straw and was just 
about as high as a man. It was spotlessly 
clean, for she had scrubbed it well, and the 
only furniture was the table and stools we 
sat on; and the bedding rolled up in a cor- 
ner. The cooking was done at her neigh- 
bor's. When the three of us and a neigh- 
bor were in the room it was full. There was 
a crowd of twenty curious people crowded 
around the door staring hard at us, and 
as there was no window, the air was very 
bad. My Mother began to talk to the 
crowd at once about "the way," for she never 
misses a chance to tell those miserable, help- 
less people about some one who loves them, 
and will care for them; they listened for 
awhile and then quietly went away. A crowd 
is always exciting in China for one never 

2.3 



knows whether they will stay good natured 
or begin to throw stones, and little girls like 
me get a little scared sometimes, but people 
all seem to like and understand my mother 
so well I am not afraid with her. Well, as 
you can see, it was a pretty poor place, but 
as mother said, "Li Sao Tze's manners 
would have graced a duchess." She served 
us as though it was the finest Yamen feast 
instead of the coarse rice and vegetables she 
could buy, and we had just a happy time. I 
simply love to eat with chop sticks, and talk 
Chinese, and I was very sorry when Mother 
said we must leave. Li Sao Tze walked a 
little way with us begging us to come again, 
and she looked at my mother as if she was 
her only friend, just the way a loving dog 
looks at his master. 

We had come to our own street when a 
woman Mother knew came up to Mother and 
said, "Oh, Er Si Mu, there is a poor little 
baby out on the mountain, the people put it 
there yesterday, and it has been crying all 
night." Just think of that in the middle of 
winter; I couldn't help thinking what if it 
had been Gwennie? 

Mother told me to go home, as we were 
so near, and off she started, almost running. 
The woman went with her and there, out 
beside a big rock on the mountain, she found 
the littlest kind of a baby. She had just one 
dirty garment wrapped around her, and she 
was, oh, so dirty and thin, and blue with the 
cold. Mother did not wait a minute but 

24 



snatched her up in her arms and hugged her 
close to make her warm. Two or three 
women followed her, and they were sur- 
prised to see her so tender to a little strange 
baby; they kept whispering, "By the way 
she treats it, it might be her own." 

I was standing by the door when she came 
in, and heard her ask the amah to bring a 
hot bath and the table boy to build a great 
fire. She would not let us children in the 
room until she had bathed the baby and 
burned the old garment, for fear we might 
catch something. We peeked in the door, 
though, and as she washed the poor little 
shivering thing, the tears ran down her face, 
and she kept saying, "Oh, you poor little 
baby, you poor little baby!" Mother spent 
all the rest of the afternoon trying to bring 
the frozen baby back to life, and by supper 
time I could see she was dreadfully tired. 
We all felt pretty solemn over our tea, for 
we were so sorry for the baby whose father 
and mother did not want her. Mother put 
us to bed early and talked to us so sweetly 
about the baby and how kind we must be to 
her. 

She was so tired at station meeting that 
evening she fell right asleep in a talk about 
some old salary or other; they all laughed 
about it the next morning, but I don't won- 
der she did, do you? 

Late that night — after she had seen her 
own little children were all right, she went 
to the little motherless baby, making it warm 

25 



and "comfy" and cuddled it, because It never 
had been cuddled before. 

The baby died yesterday and we children 
cried very hard, it all seemed so sad, and we 
wanted her as a playmate. I think it is a 
very beautiful thing to have a mother who 
is a mother to all little forlorn babies, be- 
cause she loves her own babies so dearly. 



CHAPTER III 




The Village on the Willow 
Pattern Plate 



Y mother has been away from us 
children three whole days and it 
has seemed very funny and, of 
course, a little exciting. She is 
back now though, and how we did kiss and 
hug her; we just jumped up and down for 
sheer joy and we talked so fast we couldn't 
hear ourselves think. Very soon mother 
had to say, "All good children should be in 
bed," but it was a pretty long time before 
we cuddled down and she blew out the can- 
dle ; with several last kisses all around. 

The next day I heard her tell the grown 
people all about her trip, so I am going to 
tell you as nearly as I can remember; it 
won't be as good, for mother tells things 
better than any one else in the world. 

In the first place, — not, once upon a time, 
— now is Chinese New Year. In China 
that means Christmas, birthdays. New 
Year's, Decoration Day and Fourth of July 
all rolled into one. Sometimes they cele- 



brate for nearly three weeks; the mission- 
aries get a little bit tired of it, for all regular 
work has to stop; but, as mother remarked, 
"Nothing can dampen the Chinaman's 
ardor; he even wears his mourning with a 
difference." 

This year, as usual, every one was very 
much excited, exactly the way we children 
were on Christmas Eve. I could hear the 
beggars not sneaking along as they gen- 
erally do with their whining voices asking 
for cash ; but instead, they stood quite boldly 
at the door, chanting out clearly a poem 
like this — my mother wrote it in English for 
us, — 

One voice sings — "May pearls enter your 

front gate," 
And a deeper voice responds, "Good." 
First voice — "May rubies enter the back 

gate." 
Second voice — "Good." 
First voice — "May rubies and pearls enter 
your gates, — " 
"Good." 
"It is well asked." 

"Good." 
"It will be well accomplished." 

"Good." 
"If you give twenty biscuits you will still 
have more." 
"Good." 

"At one place they sent them away and 
they quickly changed their tone — 

28 



"May a coffin enter your front gate." 

"Good." 
"May nothing but hay enter your back 
gate." 
"Good." 
"May only coffins and hay enter your 
back gates." 
"Good." 

Then they went away, saying dreadful 
things we children couldn't understand. My 
mother said she was glad she could not. 

The next morning we were eating break- 
fast when the callers began to come. They 
were the servants looking very strange and 
uncomfortable, all dressed up in their best. 
I should like to say "glad rags," though I 
suppose a little girl writing a story should 
be careful. The table boy's clothes really 
were that, for he was a famine-sufferer and 
Daddy took him in, "to save his family, not 
as a table ornament," as he laughingly told 
some one who spoke about his rough man- 
ners and untidy ways. The servants came 
to thank Daddy and Mother for their "over- 
whelmingly generous" New Year's gift — 
that's the Chinese way of saying thank you. 
They had each received twenty-five cents I 

Soon the teachers came in silks and they 
were just terribly polite, with their deep 
bows, and so stiff about drinking the tea ; be- 
ing careful to do it exactly as their fathers 
and grandfathers did unto the third and 
fourth generation, as we learned in the com- 

39 



mandments; only their tea drinking goes 
back thousands of years — I can hardly imag- 
ine such a thing. 

After them came the school girls, that 
was more fun for us children, though they 
had on their company manners, too; 
however, I succeeded in making my best 
friend giggle nervously. They were almost 
as gay as Uncle Bois's flower garden, with 
their new coats and gay hats and butterfly 
shoes. They had hardly gone before the 
women of the church came shyly in. The 
rich ladies don't call for six days. Billy 
whispered to me, "They don't do a thing 
to sweetmeats, do they?" Poor old hungry 
things, they ate all they could, and more than 
you or I possibly could, and then put the rest 
in handkerchiefs, which they brought in or- 
der to carry home what they didn't eat. It 
took them a good while to say good-by, 
these women always cling to my mother as 
though they did not want to leave their best 
friend. 

In the afternoon we all went over to the 
girls' school, even busy Mother, and played 
games. It is such fun to teach the girls our 
nice American games ! They love them and 
are very bright about learning hide-and- 
seek, tag, hunt the thimble and others. You 
would be surprised to hear how they laugh 
and how quickly those with bound feet can 
get over the ground. 

All that day Father and Mother were 
planning her trip to the country. It had taken 

30 



weeks of coaxing from Daddy to get her to 
consent to leave us children for three whole 
days, and I hardly believe they would ever 
have gotten her off but her love for the Chi- 
nese women drew her. The village is just 
one of those country places Father visits on 
his trips, but only one foreign lady had ever 
been there. A good many of the men be- 
lieve in "the doctrine," but the wives don't 
like it and treat their Christian husbands 
badly. 

I suppose you wonder why my mother 
hated to leave us for three little days. In 
the first place. Auntie Jeanie was not with 
us, and I think you will understand when I 
explain the other reason. I have never writ- 
ten anything about my little brother Harry, 
who went to be with Jesus when I was a tiny 
baby — Mother tells us about his wee darling 
ways, and how he was always so good and 
gentle that everybody loved him. He was 
just learning to talk and had such pretty 
curly hair, like Mother's, and a sweet smile 
with dimples. I think that when he left us 
something in my Mother's heart died too, 
and that she has never been quite as happy 
since; when she talks of him there is such a 
longing look in her eyes. She told me once 
she never knew how our Father in Heaven 
loves his children, until she found how deep 
down into her whole heart, like the clinging 
roots of a flower, her love for Harry went. 
Harry was so brave and patient when he was 
ill, doing exactly as he was told, and my 

31 



mother used to pray that she would take the 
trouble from her loving Father, as patiently 
as Harry took the medicine and treatment 
from his parents' hands. Chinese names 
have some beautiful meanings; Hwai Yuan, 
where we live, means, "the place that those 
who are far away love," and An Hui, our 
Province, means, "comfort." I always love 
to think that when Harry left us, Mother 
held me up in her arms and said, "This is my 
little An Hui." Whenever Mother leaves 
us I am sure she thinks of Harry and how 
something might happen to us while she is 
away, for in China many dreadful things 
can happen very quickly. 

It seems to me it has taken me almost 
forever to begin to tell about their trip, but 
now I am really off. On that eventful day 
— how well that sounds — the chairmen turn- 
ed up bright and early. In China if we ex- 
pect the coolies early, they come late: if you 
expect them late, they come early! I think 
it makes life more exciting not to have things 
go as they should. 

The party was made up mostly of ladies; 
there was Aunt Agnes — she's a doctor; Aunt 
Margaret — she's a nurse; Ren Ku Niang — 
she's a Chinese teacher; and my mother — 
she's just a mother; all in sedan chairs. 

Sometimes you must wonder how I have 
so many aunts and uncles here in China, but 
most of them are just make-believe, because 
our real aunts and uncles are so far away — 
Uncle Sam, Aunt Margaret and Auntie 

32 



Jeanle are the only really truly uncle and 
aunts. 

The chairmen started off with the usual 
grunt and grumble walking along over the 
deep snow which lay all over the ground. 
It was pretty cold as they crept along 
through the country, and they passed lots of 
little villages with their thatched roofs and 
groves of willows exactly like the picture on 
the willow pattern plate. 

The coolies would stop at each of these 
villages to rest and drink bowls of hot tea, 
and the people, all dressed in their best for 
New Years, would crowd around the chairs 
and make funny remarks about the strange 
foreigners. For some peculiar reason, per- 
haps because she wore glasses, they always 
thought my mother was very old. You 
know, really, my mother looks very young. 
"This is the old one," they would say, "she 
must be eighty or ninety years old," and one 
woman told her she knew Daddy, he had 
ridden through there on his bicycle once, and 
his disposition was very lively. She asked if 
my mother was his mother. It may be be- 
cause that is the biggest compliment a Chi- 
nese can give, to think one very old. At 
noon Uncle Ed came on his mule to meet 
them. A mule is not a romantic animal to 
put in my story; he is no prancing steed of 
chivalry, such as my fairy books tell us 
about; poor old Billy Bryan, no one would 
ever think of calling him that! Uncle Ed 
did not ride up to their rescue with spear in 

.33 



rest; but my mother was just as glad to see 
him as though he had; for you see she could 
hand over the management of the quarreling 
Chinese coolies to him, and that was a great 
relief. 

The snow had turned to slush and mud. 
Three or four of the men had forgotten to 
bring extra straw sandals. The mud caked 
in the old ones, and they grumbled and slip- 
ped and said they would not carry them an- 
other step without more shoes, and of course 
way out in the country was no place to buy 
shoes. 

Uncle Ed had to ride from one to another, 
and cheer and scold them on. The ladies 
ate their lunch riding along so as not to stop 
at all, and drank hot tea from thermos bot- 
tles, which seemed strange in that part of 
old China, where people had not changed 
for so many hundred years. 

The afternoon came on, and the sun be- 
gan to set; when he, their best friend, disap- 
peared, it grew pitchy black and bitterly cold, 
but at last they heard a wild barking of 
dogs and saw some lights ahead, and heard 
friendly voices, so they knew that they had 
reached their village. The outside of the 
chapel was quite dark, but the inside was 
brightly lighted, and they were delighted to 
hobble in, for they were so stiff with the cold 
and long ride they could hardly stand. They 
soon had a table set with bread and butter 
and hot tea; it was set on a table which was 
used for a pulpit the next day. If ever you 

34 



come to China you will be surprised how 
many uses one article of furniture can 
have. I was born here, so I am never sur- 
prised at all. 

The coolies brought in the bedding, and 
Uncle Ed helped the ladies to put up their 
little folding beds, and my, how glad they 
were to snuggle under the warm blankets 
and go to sleep. 

Before they were up in the morning the 
people were thumping at the door, and try- 
ing to peep through the cracks, so that they 
had to hurry their dressing, and finally they 
were led by their kind host, with half the 
village following, to his house for break- 
fast. 

Mother said it was a strange meal to a 
foreigner, but interesting, because everything 
they gave them came right from the farm. 
The brothers of the fat slices of pork they 
ate, were nosing about the door; at the 
same time, her elbow hit the basket from 
which the boiled rice had been taken; 
the little salt fish had some years back 
been caught in the puddle outside the 
door, and the turnips, cabbage and garlic 
could be easily traced to the muddy fields. 
The kindness and politeness of their cor- 
dial hosts made it a feast to be long remem- 
bered. Before they finished the little chapel 
was packed and people were fighting to get 
in. The mud was so deep between the 
house and the chapel mother's rubbers came 
off twenty times, and at last an old lady lent 

35 



her her crooked stick and another clutched 
her elbow and pulled her out of the mud. 

There were so many women present Uncle 
Ed gave the chapel up to them and they filled 
it. They were all so eager in telling each 
other how anxious they were to hear all 
about "the Doctrine" the ladies could hardly 
be heard. The Chinese women, until they 
have been taught, have no idea how to 
behave in a foreigner's church. A few 
weeks ago in our own beautiful church in 
Hwai Yuan, Mother and Aunt Margaret 
were trying to keep fifty or sixty women 
quiet through the service, when, just before 
the benediction, an old lady popped up, and 
shrieked at the top of her lungs to her son 
who was away in the other side of the church, 
"Come on home, it's time for dinner. I'm 
going now." Mother tried to pull her 
down by the coat tails when she saw what 
was going to happen, but of course it was 
just too late. You can see if this happens 
in the city church, where the foreigners have 
been some time, how lively it might be in a 
green country chapel. They sang hymns, 
and by that means made the women listen, 
and then explained what the hymns meant. 
Reu Ku Niang talked, and so did Mother, 
till they became too hoarse and tired to even 
croak; then they told them Dr. Agnes would 
see any who were ill, in the corner of the 
chapel. Mother said they had such funny 
diseases. One woman was empty, all the 
time, and she pointed from her mouth to her 

.16 



shoes; another woman was dry, particularly 
in the throat, and lots of other strange 
things. 

Finally, they were told they must go 
to dinner, which was exactly like breakfast 
only Aunt Agnes had a donkey at her elbow. 
The afternoon service was the same as the 
morning and Aunt Agnes again looked af- 
ter the poor sick ones. The supper, mother 
said, was exactly as remarkable as the din- 
ner and breakfast. After supper the neigh- 
bors came in and asked if they couldn't sing 
hymns together, and the foreigners and Chi- 
nese sat for an hour or two singing. I am 
a little girl and not very wise, but it does 
seem lovely to me that though our ways and 
our languages are so different, we have the 
same loving Father in Heaven, so we can't 
be so different, after all. 

When the singing was over the women 
still gathered for more medicine. Aunt 
Agnes treated them all, one after another, 
and then put up her chest. But still another 
woman had a sickness, when she awoke in 
the morning her arm was often numb. 
Couldn't she have something? Poor Aunt 
Agnes was dreadfully tired, so Mother said, 
"Let me give her something." She took an 
old biscuit box and put the rest of their alco- 
hol in it, and told her to rub it on when she 
felt the trouble in her arm. So finally the 
ladies were allowed to go to sleep. The 
next morning the ride home was much easier 
because the snow was dry, and I guess from 

37 



what my mother said, her heart just ran 
ahead of the chairs all the way, she was so 
eager to reach us children. 

Now I have told you the trip as nearly 
as I could remember it as Mother told us. I 
must tell you one thing that, of course, she 
would not tell, but I know it must have hap- 
pened, — it always happens everywhere. 
That is how she won the love of those 
women, and how they clung to her. I don't 
believe they will have any more trouble with 
the heathen women in that village since they 
have seen my mother. I must tell you one 
more story about a woman here, and then I 
will stop, for this seems awfully long. 

One day my mother had been talking to a 
poor old woman about the way to Jesus and 
about Heaven; how the door stood open to 
all who would enter. The poor old woman 
suddenly clasped my mother's hand and said, 
"Er Si Mu, I do not know about Heaven, 
but I know you, and I want to be with you 
and go where you go." 



38 



u 



CHAPTER IV 



Tkrough the Magic Gates 
of a Yamen 




ESTERDAY was a most remark- 
able day; when I tell you about 
it I guess you'll think so too. 
If you were my English friends 
you would exclaim, "Only fancy," and would 
not guess at all. 

It was St. Valentine's Day. Of course 
the Chinese never heard of such a person 
and it was impossible to buy a single valen- 
tine. My mother had saved up all last year's 
valentines; they were a pretty ragged set, 
and we tried to play they were bright and 
new, but as some one said, "It was a most 
awful stretch to the imagination," mine 
nearly cracked in doing it. I had to 
pretend I had a fairy in my heart to last me 
all the year, to keep from crying. I think 
my mother is perfectly fine in making games 
out of nothing. I remember once she gave 
Billy a badge, when he was a very little boy, 
for not crying one whimper all day, and he 
wore it around as proud as a peacock. 

39 



Yesterday she thought of such splendid 
new fairy games to make the day seem dif- 
ferent. After awhile she was called away 
and Jimmy, who is never quiet, chose that 
time to throw a ball through the nursery 
window and then stuck his head through af- 
ter it, to see how much damage he had done 
on the side where the ball struck. You will 
laugh at that, but it isn't as funny as it 
sounds, for it is still Chinese New Year, 
which means nothing to you, but here in 
China it will be ten days before we can find 
a man who will mend it. As the weather is 
very cold, I suppose we will have to take the 
fresh-air cure. 

When we had quieted down a little after 
Jimmy's mishap, Mother came in, her hand 
just full of American mail, and loads of — 
I wonder if you could guess what? — valen- 
tines! Our dear grandmother, who never 
forgets any holiday, had sent them. We 
just shouted and chortled in our joy. 
Mother divided them up, and then she gave 
each two or three, and we went out in turn, 
but quite secretly, and when no one was look- 
ing came back, and knocked on the front 
door, and when we heard footsteps coming 
we ran away, leaving a valentine marlced 
plainly for each of the others on the door 
step. It was such fun, and we played at it 
until nearly dinner time. Then came an- 
other lovely surprise. Mother took me 
aside and told me because it was Valentine's 
Day she was going to take me to a feast at 

40 



the Yamen. I danced right up and down 
when I heard that good news, for I dearly 
love to go with Mother, but somehow she 
hardly ever takes me there. We had to be- 
gin to dress right off, for there was no tell- 
ing when the feast would begin. The po- 
lite way in China is for the lady of the feast 
to send a Yamen runner to her guests every 
hour or two to say the feast is ready, and 
when she sends about the third time then 
you go. Mother says she has to give up 
almost the whole day to a feast, and I 
don't think she enjoys giving so much 
time, but she likes to be friendly with the 
women. Mother put on her best lavender 
Chinese coat, with some pretty flowers in her 
soft brown hair, and she did look so sweet. 
If you asked me what flower I thought of 
when I thought of my mother I should say 
violets; she loves them so, and always wears 
violet or lavender or lilac when she can. 
My aunties in America laugh and say that 
no matter what color she expects to buy 
when she goes shopping for a gown — she 
always comes back with some shade of vio- 
let. 

I wore my very best white dress that came 
for Christmas, and I had my hair curled and 
felt so stiff and starched. I thought they 
never would send the servant the last time. 
I was dreadfully hungry; besides, Billy and 
Jimmy were playing a fascinating game of 
making mud marbles in the back yard and 

41 



i was crazy to join them, but of course I 
couldn't in my best dress. 

At last we started. I was in the same 
sedan chair with mother. The chair looked 
very gay with its bright tassels and curtains; 
and as we were carried through the streets 
all the neighbors ran out of their courts and 
peered in at the little windows to see who 
was riding in such state; they would turn to 
each other and say, "The foreign ladies are 
going to the Yamen today," and then they 
would scream it to some neighbor in a back 
court who could not come out to see for her- 
self; so altogether we made quite a stir. 
I really couldn't help feeling important. 

Very soon we came to the great gates of 
the Yamen and our bearers put our chairs 
down, and we sent our large red calling card 
in to the Tai Tai to tell of our 
arrival. While we waited the usual 
Chinese crowd gathered around our chair, 
and again the men leaned way over and 
looked into the chair to see who we 
were and what we had on. After wait- 
ing, it seemed to me a very long time, 
the gates were thrown open and we were 
carried through the men's court to the gates 
before the women's part of the Yamen. 
These gates too were thrown wide — doesn't 
that sound like Cinderella? — and we were 
carried up the open court to the steps In 
front of the guest-room. I always love the 
way we go Into the Yamen, It seems exactly 
the same as the fairy stories and Arabian 

42 



Nights, with all the form and the swinging 
back of doors and bowing menials. If only 
the menials weren't so ragged and dirty, and 
the Yamen so bare and dusty. When I try 
to pretend that the houses are tiled with 
gold and the rooms are decked in fine 
tapestry instead of cobwebs I have to shut 
my eyes to do it. Now I must hurry, for 
all this time I have been talking the Tai Tai 
had been standing waiting for us to descend 
from our gilded chariots — our moth-eaten 
sedan chairs, truly; our flunkies — the chair 
coolies — stood aside while the Tai Tai's 
rmah hurried out to help us alight and walk 
to where the head Tai Tai stood bowing and 
smiling and firmly shaking her own hands. 
You must remember it was very necessary 
for us to have the amah help us walk, for 
even my feet were supposed to be bound and, 
of course, that makes it very hard for us to 
move. Finally we reached the bowing man- 
dariness and Mother took her glasses off her 
nose in order to be very polite, and bowed 
and I bowed and we all murmured under our 
breath that she was doing us too much 
honor. At last it seemed to strike our host- 
ess that it was time to lead us in. She had 
on a beautiful embroidered coat and I heard 
one of the foreign ladies murmur in English 
behind me, "What a gorgeous evening 
coat!" 

There were two or three Chinese ladies 
in the guest-room, to whom my mother had 
to begin the same old polite remarks, while 

43 



the other foreign ladies did the same. Then 
all the foreign ladies gave back their invita- 
tions to the feast, with more bows and po- 
liteness. After this came the great cere- 
mony of getting seated. My mother was 
the guest of honor and must talce the high- 
est place. My mother knew this was the 
case, and the Tai Tai knew that my mother 
knew that this was the polite thing to do, and 
all the Chinese ladies and the foreign ladies 
knew the custom; yet they had to protest and 
beg and beseech and refuse and resist and 
the like — as my Latin rules put it — until they 
were all tired out. In the end my 
mother sank exhausted where she had 
known she was to be all the time, the rest 
of the guests followed and we were soon all 
seated and glad of the hot tea to freshen up 
our tired manners. I had a chance to peep 
around while the others were talking, and I 
must confess that one needed an unusually 
strong magical wand to turn this room into 
a fairy palace. The floors were rough 
stone, later we found in the bedrooms there 
were bare boards; there were no ceilings but 
thatched roofs, the one window in each room 
had one small pane of glass, the rest were 
pasted up with paper. In the inner room 
to which we were invited after we had fin- 
ished with the tea, were several trunks piled 
up in a corner; and in another was a large 
carved bedstead with curtains of light blue 
calico — the whole place really needed Alad- 
din very badly indeed. Yet the ladies' gowns 

44 



were most beautiful, all satin and em- 
broidery. 

While we were still in the first room, "sip- 
ping our Bohea" like "Prince Finnikin and 
his Mamma," my mother started the polite 
conversation. She turned to the first Tai 
Tai and asked to know "her most honorable 
name." It seemed her "very unworthy 

name" was "Wang" ; then she turned to the 
next lady, her name also was "Wang," and 
still another was called "Wang" too. You 
can see by this there are plenty of Wangs in 
China. 

Then the amah, after trying a water pipe, 
handed it to Mother. All the Chinese ladies 
were smoking, but of course Mother refused, 
as did the rest of the foreigners. So the 
Tai Tai whispered to the amah and away 
she ran and brought back a plate on which 
were laid a box of matches and some of the 
very largest cigars I ever saw. They re- 
fused, without a smile, but I had to think 
of something very sad to keep from laughing 
right out loud, but I think it showed how 
truly polite they were. 

Then my mother tried to make more con- 
versation; she remembered she had heard 
one of the brothers had been married lately, 
so she said in her politest manner, "May I 
ask which of you ladies is the bride?" They 
all looked at each other. "What does she 
say?" they asked. She tried again. Still 
they looked blank. At a last attempt one 
of the amahs understood and translated to 

45 



the ladies. We saw in a minute, from their 
surprise, it was a break and one of the ladies 
answered, "She is not here." When they 
took us into the other room we knew why 
they had been so surprised, for there in one 
corner stood the bride bowing very low. 

You must remember that going from one 
room to another was not as simple as it 
sounds, for each time we had to go through 
the same polite ceremonies as we did when 
we were first seated, and as each lady had an 
amah or two to support her swaying foot- 
steps, it was a complicated affair. The 
bride was very gay in her scarlet coat and 
skirt, her face powdered white, her eye- 
brows and hair blackened, with red cheeks 
and lips, and so many queer rings and brace- 
lets; but I don't think she looked really 
pretty. Again we had to drink tea with the 
bride, and ask more polite questions, at least 
the Chinese call them polite; their ideas are 
different from ours, but they are the most 
polite people in the world. 

We all sipped tea as noisily as possible 
so that our hostesses should understand we 
considered it delicious. Then once again 
the chief Tai Tai asked us to go into another 
room. It was the first room we had seen, 
but while we were away admiring the little 
bride a great change had been wrought. 

The table had been moved into the mid- 
dle of the room and at each place was a pair 
of ivory and silver chop sticks. Along the 
middle of the table were laid little plates, 

46 



each having a pile of Chinese dainties; tur- 
nips cut into pretty shapes, slices of pear, 
pomegranate, buried eggs, cold fat ham, 
dates, bits of orange, and many other things. 
Near the seat of honor stood a man with a 
little metal bowl on a tray; the great Tai 
Tai, steadying herself by the back of the 
chairs, made her way around the table until 
she came near the highest seat, then she took 
the bowl of wine from the tray and, holding 
it in both hands, made a pretty bow to my 
mother, and asked her to be seated. She 
did this to the foreign ladies, in turn, then 
the Chinese ladies slipped Into their places 
and the feast began. 

It would take me nearly all winter, I be- 
lieve, if I told you all we had to eat, and 
you probably would never go to a Chinese 
feast if I did, and then you would miss lots 
of fun and many good things. 

We had course after course, some like the 
"little girl with the little curl," very good, 
— others horrid. Everything was either 
very oily or very sweet, and all boiling hot. 

My mother says she can eat the shark's 
fins with a smile, worry down the black sea 
slugs and the buried eggs, but the worst of 
all is to think up conversation through the 
many unending courses. Chinese ladles are 
not allowed to go outside their houses ex- 
cept In sedan chairs; they can not read, and 
they spend their days sewing, quarreling, and 
smoking. My hair was the subject for two 
or three courses, — how beautiful It was, and 

47 



what a lovely skin I had, and my eyes were 
as blue as the sky , and I spoke Chinese bet- 
ter than the ladies did themselves. I saw 
my mother look very uneasy and try and 
talk about American children and how they 
were taught to obey. I knew she didn't like 
me to hear all the compliments, that's one 
reason she so seldom takes me to the Yamen 
— but of course I had sense enough to know 
they did not really mean it, and were only 
being polite. Towards the end of the feast 
they began to talk about the famine that was 
growing very bad around us, and one of the 
ladies said that two or three prisoners died 
of hunger every day. The prison was un- 
der the same roof as the Yamen, and my 
mother said, when she heard that, the feast 
fairly choked her, and she felt she must get 
away. You see, the government gives each 
prisoner a certain number of cash for food. 
It would be enough to keep the prisoners 
alive, but the officials put most of the money 
into their own pockets. Well, at last, the 
servant passed around a tin basin full of 
warm water with a greyish rag floating in it, 
each guest being supposed to bury their face 
in the rag to remove all traces of the meal. 
I noticed the foreign ladies touched it pretty 
gingerly, and that marked the end of the 
feast. 

As usually, Mother was surrounded by the 
ladies who were loath to let her go, and 
begged her eagerly to come again, — they 
seemed to feel she had something they need- 

48 



ed though thy couldn't tell at all what It 
was. 

As we climbed into our sedan chairs the 
moon poured over the court, the darkness 
hid all the dirt and barrenness, and the 
moonlight made the big carved gates look so 
splendid, I did not have to pretend at all. 
It is strange to me how my mother interests 
all the Chinese, rich and poor. While I 
have been writing this story about the feast, 
1 heard her talking to one of the poor 
women who has come in from the country to 
study about the Doctrine. Mother says she 
would get on much faster, but the poor old 
soul is very deaf. Mother fairly roared 
into her ears the story of the Prodigal Son. 
When she had finished the woman turned 
to her niece, who was standing by, and said, 
with a placid smile, "I can't understand her, 
you know I'm a little deaf," and the niece ex- 
plained to my mother, "You'll have to talk 
as though you were quarreling with her." 
Just the same, the old lady seems to have 
gathered a good deal more from my 
mother's teaching than a great many 
brighter Christians in America, for she loves 
to go to church, and says, "I can't hear the 
prayers, and the sermon, and I can't sing 
the hymns — but I can sit awhile before the 
Lord." 



49 



CHAPTER V 



The Exciting Voyage of 
a Houseboat 




ILLY, Jimmy and I feel a good 
deal like cannibals or graveyards 
this afternoon. I suppose you 
wonder why, so I will hurry to 
tell you. 

When we came back from our summer 
vacation. Tain Si Fu, our cook, gave us six 
pigeons; three to us children for pets, and 
three to Daddy and Mother for the table; 
but they were all put in one small pigeon 
house. We children grew very fond of 
them, feeding them faithfully with corn and 
other things until they were as plump 
as partridges. At last today Mother 
felt we must eat the three that Tain Si Fu 
had given her and Daddy, or he would be 
hurt. Of course we all hated to lose our 
pets and when I came to the table and saw 
them looking so different from the proud 
pigeons that used to strut about the yard and 
stick out their breasts in such a conceited 
way, and who used to fly down so quickly 
when we brought them their dinner, I 



.SI 



didn't know whether to laugh or to cry — 
still we all wanted to taste. Jimmy took 
the first bite very doubtfully, smacked his 
lips, and said, with a sad, sweet smile, "How 
comfy does other pigeons are, in dere little 
house when dey sit down, now dese ones 
are gone." 

That comforted us so much and the pig- 
eons were so delicious we all ate a great 
deal, but after dinner when I went out and 
saw only three pigeons it made me feel very 
solemn, and I decided to write a story this 
afternoon, and perhaps I would forget about 
being a cannibal. 

Hwai Yuan I like, and Kuling I like, but 
it's awful on the plains between except at 
Mrs. Molland's house, that seems like a kind 
of place to cuddle down in. 

Every summer we go to the mountains 
because it is too hot for children and ladies 
in Hwai Yuan, but it means such a trip. 
Sometimes three or four weeks when we go 
by houseboat; ten days or more if we go by 
sedan chair, and that is dreadfully hard trav- 
eling, putting up at night in the stuffy, dirty 
Chinese inns and being carried all day long 
on the shoulders of quarreling coolies. 
When we reach home we are just worn out. 
Mother hates the houseboat even worse, 
though it is much easier, because it was on 
the first houseboat trip that our little Harry 
was taken so ill, and she always is afraid 
what may happen. Soon we hope to have 
a railroad and then it will be fine taking 

52 



only a day or two; It will make us feel so 
civilized. 

This fall there were so many people and 
such a crowd of boxes we had to go by 
houseboat. It took three boats to carry us 
all. When I tell you there were three hun- 
dred boxes, I think you will be surprised. 
Among the things were a piano, a church or- 
gan, coal, a pulpit, and eighteen beds; all 
our winter stores, potatoes, and groceries; 
all Auntie Jeanie's things from home, a violin 
and housekeeping utensils for some of the 
others, and a lot of things I can't remember. 

I wish I could draw you a picture of a 
houseboat. You probably would think it a 
great lark to travel on one the first trip, even 
to the living on fricassee chicken for three or 
four weeks running; but to do it twice a year 
grows very tiresome. In the bow of the 
boat is the front deck, of course, under 
which the boatmen sleep. They put down 
the planks every night, and why they aren't 
smothered before morning we have never 
been able to discover; for not a sign of a win- 
dow do they have, and all the air the three or 
four men get sifts through the cracks. They 
always bob up serenely next day, so I don't 
believe we need as much air as the doctors 
say we do. 

Behind the deck comes a little room where 
they do the cooking; you have to walk 
through this to get to the living-room, din- 
ing-room, dressing-room, sleeping-room, all 
combined. Again behind that Is another 

S3 



room, and beyond that again are quarters 
for the boatman's family. 

On this trip there were Aunt Peggie, Aunt 
Agnes and Auntie Jeanie, beside Daddy, 
Mother and we four children. You will 
understand if I quote the poem we learned in 
the Reader, "We were crowded in the 
cabin." We had beds on every spot and 
box where a bed could be put, and some 
places where they couldn't. In the day time 
the bedding had to be folded and put away 
so we could use the spots and boxes as 
chairs. As Mother complained, "It made 
getting dressed and the room ready for 
breakfast, very complicated." 

I must hasten to explain that our trip was 
up the Grand Canal, on which the current 
was terribly swift on account of the floods, 
through the lakes, and up the Hwai River. 
The first part of the way we were tugged 
by a launch, the rest of the way we sailed 
when we had a following wind, which we 
seldom had, and were towed when the wind 
failed or was ahead. That, as you can eas- 
ily imagine, was slow work, but in China time 
and tide wait for everybody. 

Well, it took Daddy even longer to get 
the boats loaded than I have taken to de- 
scribe it, and In the meantime we stayed 
with friends at Yang Chow. At length, 
however, every box, piece of coal and po- 
tato were on board, the boat tied to the 
launch, and they steamed along the canal to 
pick us up at Yang Chow. 



We started off gay and happy as you 
please, amid the usual Chinese din of yells 
and jeers, firecrackers and cackling hens, 
while we stood and waved good-bye until 
our friends disappeared behind a bend in 
the river. 

It took a good many hours to get our 
bags and bundles stowed away, for the boat 
had been pressed down and running over 
before, and with all the added people and 
bedding it was as good as a puzzle picture to 
get things "put and stay put," as some one 
wisely remarked. 

We children went out on deck to be out 
of the way and watch the chickens, for in 
China one carries all the chickens one ex- 
pects to eat, in coops, along with one. The 
idea is to feed them up in the hope they will 
grow fat and tender, but as far as I can 
remember, it was always a vain hope. 

We watched the shores with the mud vil- 
lages, and the dirty pigs, dogs and ragged 
children, and the barges full of country peo- 
ple and all their worldly belongings that 
were fleeing south away from the famine. 
All the world seemed under water except 
the banks of the canal and a few farm- 
houses here and there that stood above the 
flood mark. Then we grew tired and be- 
gan to watch the boat people. The man 
who owns the boat always lives on it with 
his whole family; it may be a large one, 
in fact, it always is. We children enjoy 

55 



watching them cook their food, and burn 
their incense, though my mother hates to 
have us hear them swear and quarrel. 

Once when we were on a boat the man 
who owned it was ill, and he thought he was 
going to die, so he took his coffin along with 
him. He thought it would be "inconveni- 
ent" to die on the boat, so he asked us to 
wait over a day and see what happened. 

That evening his old aunt walked around 
the boat calling in the most weird voice for 
his soul to come back ; it made my back bone 
creep. Then one of the sons went out into 
the fields and he was supposed to be the 
soul, and he called in a still more frighten- 
ing voice, "Coming, coming." It just made 
me shiver and hold my mother's hand. T 
wonder how the sick man felt; however, 
he wasn't so very ill and we went on the 
next day. 

By the time we had grown tired of watch- 
ing the sailors and the old father of them 
all burning his joss sticks before their eve- 
ning offering of rice, Mother called us in to 
supper. We perched on boxes and chairs and 
beds, at all sorts of angles, and ate our first 
wings and drumsticks of the daily chicken 
amid shouts of laughter. Auntie Jeanie, 
Mother and Daddy can always see the funny 
side of the most uncomfortable happenings, 
so they often turn mishaps that other people 
would talk about with long faces for days, 
into picnic parties. 

It took a very long time to settle into bed 

56 



that night, though we started right after 
supper, for there seemed not a single place to 
put anything, and in the dim light of candles 
and lanterns, things slipped behind loose 
boards, or between boxes into the most un- 
likely places. 

Billy and I couldn't help thinking what 
fun it would be if the organ, piano and vio- 
lin should begin to play in the middle of the 
night, but we all drew the line at having the 
pulpit begin to preach. However, we had 
a very different kind of music! As one by 
one we dropped to sleep, the last thing we 
heard was the rushing of the water on our 
bows, and the distant barking of dogs on 
the bank, as we swung swiftly along, towed 
by the launch. 

Suddenly, about two o'clock there was a 
crash, and we started up in bed, at the 
frightened yells of the boat people. There 
was running over our heads, calls to and 
from the distant launch, our boat gave a 
shake and tremble, and it seemed as if we 
must go over. We had struck a rock, and 
the launch threw off the tow rope. Our 
boat stood still a minute and then was car- 
ried away by the terribly swift current. The 
Grand Canal is not the quiet, peaceful, gen- 
tle water the canals in America are. It is 
quite wide in places, and after the high rains 
the water flows as fast as a river. We were 
all terribly surprised and frightened, but, 
as usual, Daddie and Mother quieted our 
fears. Daddy told us to dress quickly, and 

57 



Mother, very calm, though her voice shook a 
little when she spoke, found our lost stock- 
ings and shoes, and helped us bundle up 
warm. You can imagine the hubbub, all 
those people having to find their things in 
the dim light in those crowded cabins. The 
sailors had to come in, and found two feet 
of water under the floor, and it looked 
pretty serious. In a good deal shorter time 
than you would think possible, we were 
dressed and ready for the worst or best, 
for we did not know at what moment we 
would sink. The water looked awfully cold 
and cruel, and the night was so very dark; 
the only comfort was the lights of the launch 
in the distance, and the touch of my dear 
mother's hand. 

When things seemed very bad indeed the 
sailors, who had by this time gotten their 
poles and oars out, gave a shout, and by 
much poling, rowing and yelling, pushed us 
up on the bank. 

Then, of course, they had to stop the 
hole in our hold, and finally, after a long 
time, they patched it up so a tug could tow 
us to the next city, where it could be prop- 
erly mended. You can easily understand 
without much explaining that we could not 
exactly call that a peaceful night's sleep. 
The next morning, after they had pulled 
their courage together, the family started In 
to see what damage had been done by the 
water in the hold. As the grown people 
said, "It didn't exactly help the burning 

58 



powers of the coal, and the flavor of pota- 
ties to have them soaked, but it was still 
harder on the books, the linen, and the vio- 
lin." However, the organ and the piano 
were untouched and only the violin case 
damaged. We spread the books and linen 
out to dry so that they would not mildew, 
and the outside of the boat looked like "rag 
fair" — whatever that may be; but no one 
cares for looks in the middle of China, 
where whatever a foreigner does is consid- 
ered half crazy any way. 

You are probably saying that this acci- 
dent on the houseboat was a very unusual 
thing, and if I wasn't so anxious to go and 
play I would tell you some more about our 
different trips, then perhaps you would un- 
derstand why my mother dreaded them so. 
How they are almost always dangerous on 
account of river pirates; how sometimes the 
boats have been filled with rats so that they 
ran over us at night; how we have to drink 
the canal water into which everything is 
thrown. That is why dear little Harry 
didn't have any chance when he was ill. 
Then there is always danger from riots at 
unfriendly villages where the boats tie up 
at night; and last but not least, we have to 
go through the locks where there is always 
great danger of the rotten Chinese ropes 
breaking and the boat being upset in the 
swift rapids. People have been drowned 
there before now. 

59 



I think my mother Is very brave to go 
through all these dangers twice a year for 
us children, for, of course, she Is never 
frightened about herself. She never thinks 
of herself at all. I really think she is one 
of the bravest people In the world. Why, 
when Uncle Sam's house burned down, the 
women and children were sent to Aunt 
Rose's house for safety, but my mother 
stayed behind and directed the Chinese 
coolies where to throw the buckets of 
water. The firemen took their orders, with- 
out a protest, from a despised foreign 
woman, though I don't believe any one, in 
their heart of hearts, ever despised my 
mother. 

Well, of course you can guess from my 
writing this that our last houseboat jour- 
ney ended in safety. You could never un- 
derstand, unless you had taken the journey, 
with an organ, a violin, a pulpit, eighteen 
beds, fricassee chickens, beside women and 
children, how perfectly delighted we were 
when we sailed around the last curve of the 
Hwai River, and old W^est Mountain came 
Into view. It looked awfully pretty that 
bright October morning, with the queer 
Chinese sails on the winding river, with East 
land West mountains at the back iof the 
picture and at the foot, our hospital and 
church spire In the dear little town of Hwai 
Yuan. 

When I saw the Chinese women coming 
forward to greet my mother and welcome 

60 



her home, I knew she felt It was worth the 
hard trip, and that she was so glad she had 
the joy of being a foreign missionary. 



6i 




s 



CHAPTER VI 

"In That Beautiful Lfind" 

July, 1914 

I ERE we are again in dear old 
Kuling. We are the same chil- 
dren, Nanq^, Billy, Jimmy and 
Baby Gwen, only we are quite a 
good deal bigger ; the bungalow is the same, 
and the little bridge across our brook, and 
the mountains with their queer Chinese 
shapes; and our good, kind friends are as 
lovely as ever. None of these things or 
people have changed at all, yet it seems so 
different, so strange and queer and very 
empty. Often in my play I stop and listen, 
thinking I hear a voice calling, "Nancy, 
Nancy dear," and suddenly I remember that 
that can not be, for her voice never calls 
me now. I turn again and try to play, but 
the play spirit is gone away, for I no longer 
have a loving Mother into whose ear I can 
whisper all about the make-believe games, 
one who knows what I mean without the 
long explaining that most grown-up people 
need. 

You see, it came about in this way. Af- 
ter the terrible famine in China, all the mis- 

63 



sionarles were worn out — Uncle Sam and 
Uncle Bois were ill with fever and no one 
thought they would ever get well. My 
Daddy helped to nurse them and when they 
began to be better, he grew worse and worse 
until the doctors got together and sent us 
home to Aimerica. My mother was just 
wonderful, she took care of Daddie and was 
so bright and cheery even when she was wor- 
ried half to death about him. 

When we reached home Daddy went to 
one grandmother's and we children to the 
other's, while mother went back and forth 
between. That was pretty hard, because 
when she was in one place she was wonder- 
ing what was happening in the other, but she 
never told how she felt except once, when 
she said to a friend that when she was go- 
ing to the children she "just wanted to get 
out and push the train." How we would 
watch for her coming up the long hill from 
the railroad station, and rush to the door 
to be the first to kiss her, and little Gwen 
would dance around shouting, "Muddie," 
"Muddie," and Mother would exclaim over 
and over again, "Oh, you precious children, 
you precious children." 

Then began a joyful time, for Daddy got 
better, and we could be all together in the 
mountains; those were the happiest days we 
ever had anywhere. Mother was so bright 
and funny, and dear and good, her mind was 
so relieved about Daddy she could scarcely 
keep from laughing all the time, her soft 

64 



eyes had such a loving light in them, and 
when she made a joke she just twinkled all 
over. 

We came back to Pen-y-Craig in the fall, 
and suddenly they said our precious mother 
was ill, so we must keep very still. We 
simply stole around the house, and tried to 
be just as quiet as good children could be, 
talking in whispers. One or two days we 
spent with friends, and we did not realize 
then, she was very ill ; but oh I so soon they 
told us our darling Mother had gone to be 
with Jesus. It must be very beautiful there, 
still I can't help feeling she must have hated 
to leave her little children and dear Daddy. 

The day she was put to rest was very 
rainy, but as they carried her softly out and 
laid her gently down in a bed of beautiful 
purple and white asters, the setting sun sud- 
denly filled the valleys and covered the 
mountains, and in the end, touched her rest- 
ing-place with a glorious golden light. Then 
our minister repeated the words, "The pil- 
grim they laid in a large upper chamber, 
whose window opened toward the rising sun, 
the name of the chamber was peace, where 
she slept till break of day." I like to think 
of her sleeping on that hilltop with the moun- 
tains she loved around her, and her dear 
home nestled below her. She seems the 
guardian angel of it and the whole town; 
and not alone of them but of distant China 
too; for in the tall tower of our beautiful 
church above "the city that those who are 

65 



far away love," my mother's friends have 
placed a clock and bell, that when the bell 
chimes out the hours foreigners and Chinese 
alike may think tenderly of one who loved 
them all so dearly and spent her life for 
them. 

On the happy Sunday morning when the bell 
rings over the town and echoes back from 
the hills, calling us to service, I whisper in my 
heart, "My mother is still calling us as she 
used to do, to leave our work and come to 
pray to Him who gladly died for us." But 
most of all I love to think of her watching 
near to us children when we play, and when 
we are tired and going to bed, I can almost 
feel her soft hand smoothing my hair and 
pressing gently on my eyelids to make me 
go to sleep — always if I am naughty I see 
her dear brown eyes looking at me sadly. 

It is very hard for a little girl to under- 
stand exactly why God wanted her when we 
needed her so very badly, but this thought 
often comforts me. You know how my 
mother loved the poor stupid Chinese women 
and how many she helped and taught to love 
Jesus. Now our Heavenly Father knew they 
were stupid and poor : He realized that when 
they came to Heaven they would be lonely, 
frightened, and strange, it would be so dif- 
ferent in that beautiful place from their dirty 
straw huts, and muddy courtyards and 
streets. I think He has taken my mother, 
whom they trusted so deeply, to greet them 
and make Heaven homelike to them, for 

66 



surely they never could feel clumsy nor 
homesick nor shy after they had seen her. 

I can just see her stand at that beautiful 
gate, with Harry, and Cousin Tommy at her 
side waiting patiently as she always used to 
do to welcome those timid Chinese women. 
She would run forward, her hands out- 
stretched and her face all shining with love 
and joy, eager to show them how much more 
beautiful this new country was than they 
ever could have dreamed; and at last they 
will understand what she had meant when 
she told them in poor famine-stricken China 
that they should never be hungry any more 
nor thirsty, nor sick, and best of all, she will 
lead them to the King in all His wonderful 
beauty — and to the loving Shepherd who 
had come to earth to seek them when they 
were lost. 

Can you see why that country does not 
seem very far off or strange to us children, 
with our precious mother there? 



67 



The Song of the Women 

How shall she know the worship we would 
do her! 
The walls are high, and she is very far. 

How shall the women's message reach unto 
her 
Above the tumult of the packed bazaar? 

Free wind of March against the lattice 
blowing, 

Bear thou our thanks, lest she depart un- 
knowing. 

Go forth across the fields we may not roam 
in; 
Go forth beyond the trees that rim the 
city, 

To whatsoe'er fair place she hath her home 
in, 
Who dowered us with wealth of love and 
pity; 

Out of our shadow pass and seek her, sing- 
ing, 

"I have no gifts but love alone for bring- 
mg. 

Say that we be a feeble folk who greet her, 
But old in grief, and very wise in tears; 

Say that we, being desolate, entreat her 
That she forget us not in after years; 

For we have seen the light, and it were 
grievous 

To dim that dawning if our lady leave us. 

69 



By life that ebbed with none to stanch the 
falling, 
By love's sad harvest garnered in the 
spring, 

When love in ignorance wept unavailing 
O'er young buds dead before their blos- 
soming ; 

By all the gray owl watched, the pale moon 
viewed. 

In past grim years, declare our gratitude ! 

♦ ♦ * ♦ 

Go forth, O wind, our message on thy wings. 
And they shall hear thee pass and bid 

thee speed, — 
In reed-roofed hut, or white-walled home of 

kings, — 
Who have been helpen by her in their 

need. 
All spring shall give thee fragrance, and the 

wheat 
Shall be a tasselled floor cloth to thy feet. 

Haste, for our hearts are with thee ; take no 
rest, 
Loud-voiced ambassador, from sea to sea. 
Proclaim the bhssing, manifold, confest, 
Of those in darkness, by her hand set 
free; 
1 hen very softly to her presence move, 
And whisper, "Lady, lo, they know and 
love I" 

RuDYARD Kipling. 
Selected. 



70 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

018 602 551 9 


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